Harry Potter and the Orb of Mystery
by starcatcher2
Summary: Fanfiction of the sixth book. After the death of Sirius, Harry is terribly saddened. He returns to Hogwarts for his sixth year with a lot of surprises. They get another teacher for the DA and get a new subject. A lot of ships going on: HHr, RHr, HG, DG. W
1. Chapter One

Chapter One  
  
Harry sighed as he looked down at his plate. Aunt Petunia had just offered him half a banana and a small juice box for lunch. It was Saturday afternoon, and he was in Dursley's kitchen having lunch with them. Of course, Harry's meal was no more different from all the other meals he had ever eaten in his whole life at the Dursley's. However, the Dursleys were certainly not happy with their meal. Aunt Petunia was still trying to get Dudley, her son, to slim down. Harry wondered if this was possible, since Dudley was now exceeding the size of a baby whale, and was now starting to resemble a fully-grown warthog. Last summer, the Dursleys had tried a new diet, in hopes that this might be the miracle that would get Dudley to be a thinner man. This summer, Harry returned home to find that Aunt Petunia was looking more and more like a stick, while Uncle Vernon got red very often, and Dudley was fatter than ever, which was surprising, since Aunt Petunia only fed him rice cakes and fruits.  
  
"Uh, Uncle Vernon, could I see newspaper, please?" Uncle Vernon turned around to look at him with hateful glare, but managed to shove the newspaper into Harry's hand. Normally, Harry would have been either told to go to his room, if it could possibly be called that, or yelled at for thinking his people could ever be mentioned in a prestigious newspaper. However, this summer had been somewhat different. Ever since his friends had threatened the Dursleys, they had been nicer, or at least, remotely human.  
  
Harry Potter was a wizard. He was only 16, having just turned last Wednesday. Of course, the Dursley's hadn't even acknowledged his birthday with even a nod, but it didn't matter, because his friends had sent him many gifts and treats to feast on. Six years ago, Harry had found out that not only was he was a wizard, being the son of two great wizards, but also his parents had been murdered by the darkest wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort.  
  
Just a few months ago, Harry had learnt another secret, something much more shocking than anything. Lord Voldemort had wanted to kill Harry, because, according to a prophecy made by his Divination professor, if Voldemort didn't kill Harry, then Harry would kill him. One couldn't survive if the other lived. This would have been easier to take in had he not just lost his godfather, Sirius Black. This summer had been, without a doubt, the worst summer of his life.  
  
He knew nothing would be in the newspaper and he was right. The only interesting piece of news was that a sheikh in Brunei had sold his land, only to find out later that there was an oil mine under his land. But in none of the pages could he find anything about Voldemort or the Death Eaters.  
  
"So boy, find anything interesting? What did you expect, news about your people?" He spat out "your people" as if it had been a disgusting bug that had found its way on his fork and into his mouth. Harry was surprised. Often Uncle Vernon was careful not to mention the wizard world in fear of the neighbours overhearing them.  
  
"Vernon, dear, be careful. What if the neighbours hear you?" She lent in closer towards the table and turned to the husband. "Only last week, in the supermarket, Mrs. Frinks and Mrs. Green were looking at me and talking amongst themselves. What if they suspect something?" Harry fought to keep a straight face. He didn't think it was the neighbours being suspicious of him; rather he thought it had to something with Dudley stuffing his face with whatever candy he could get into his hands in the sweets aisle. Of course, there was no way the Dursleys would blame their son for anything said in the neighbourhood about them.  
  
"Dad, if people find that Harry is a... a... well, one of those things, then I'll lose all my friends," said Dudley, puckering his face and showing his dad his fake pout. Harry knew why Dudley was so keen on this matter being kept a secret; if any one of his friends were to find out, they'd leave him and he'd have no gang to bully little children with.  
  
"Yes, Dudderkins, you're quite right. No fine young boy should have to lose his friends because he's got scum for relatives. But I can't keep quiet, Petunia. This boy is touching my last nerve. He's sixteen, old enough to be kicked out of this house. Why, I could throw him out on his arse right now." Uncle Vernon's face kept turning a brighter shade of putrid purple. Harry was no less angry, but he couldn't use his magic. He already had a warning from the Ministry of Magic once about the use of magic while being underage. If he was caught, he could be expelled from Hogwarts, and that was the only home he ever knew. If he lost that, he didn't know how he could possible overcome his grief for Sirius by staying in the same house as the Dursleys. He had to control his anger, and at the same time, keep Uncle Vernon from throwing him out. Luckily, all he had to do was say one sentence.  
  
"Uncle Vernon, aren't you forgetting the chat you had with my friends?" This instantaneously turned Uncle Vernon's face from the shade of a rotten plum to white. He stuttered, but no words came out. He loathed magic folk, but he was afraid of them as well. Oh no, he hadn't forgotten the chat. Neither had he forgotten when that large ape who called himself Hagrid had turned Dudley into a pig. Nor had he forgotten when Harry had turned his sister Marge into a swollen large balloon. He hadn't forgotten what happened two years ago either, when that Weasly and his boys had wrecked his fireplace and turned Dudley's tongue purple. Last year was still fresh in his mind, when they got the letter for Petunia with the bellowing voice. He hadn't forgotten anything and that's why he shut his mouth right now.  
  
Harry smiled proudly. The summer was going by awfully, with the mourning of Sirius' death, but at least Mr. Weasly, Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody had made it better with their threat against the Dursleys. "Well, that's better now. If we're done here, I'll go up to my room. I bet Hedwig has come from Ron's house with a letter. You know how she comes in at broad day light. You certainly wouldn't want the neighbours seeing her, now would you?" He left the kitchen triumphantly, with Uncle Vernon flailing his arms behind him and Aunt Petunia swinging at the thought of the neighbours seeing the owl. Both his aunt and uncle, however, didn't see Dudley trying to wolf down their breakfast, unsatisfied with just his own.  
  
Chapter Two 


	2. Chapter Two

Thank you everyone for the reviews. At least now I know people read my stories and actually bother commenting on them. If you have any suggestions, please tell.  
Chapter Two  
  
He had always grieved for his parents, the loss that was always with him, but at least he was consoled with the fact that now they were watching him, and they were in peace. But his grief over Sirius's death was too overwhelming. How could he go back to regular life when Sirius's face haunted him even in his dreams. Three nights would not go by peacefully without his recurring nightmare.  
  
In the nightmare, he was engulfed in this mist that seemed to stretch everywhere around him. He was looking for Sirius, expecting him to come up behind him any moment, his face stretched into his usual, wide grin, crinkling his face.  
  
Hours went by as Harry kept searching for him, arms outstretched, listening closely to any sound, in case the maker of the sound was Sirius. But there was no sound; nothing at all. Soon Harry would began to feel the eerie silence. It was creeping up on him, making his heart beat faster and faster. He kept lashing at the thin cloud around him, hoping to grope Sirius's hand, but nothing came. He was all alone. Then he heard a voice. Some nights, the voice was pleading; some nights it was screaming with fright, trying to hold on to a world that was; some nights the voice was just tired, not knowing whether someone would come to the rescue. But every time he had the dream, there was something same about the voice. It never failed to chill Harry to the bone, to make him gasp for his breath. He then ran to the source of the sound.  
  
He came upon a dark chasm. If the mist had made it difficult for him to see, then the abyss was like big dark hole, where no light went in and none came out. He kept edging closer to see inside, careful not to step into the abyss where no reality existed. Then he heard the sound again, this time from across him. He saw Sirius falling inside the chasm, his arms behind him, surprise on his face. Harry lunged after him; he was falling too. Blackness surrounded him, engulfing him. His eyes saw dark-he felt dark, just a mass of some dark flesh. He kept falling and falling, losing his mind and his senses, he kept falling until-  
  
This is when Harry would wake up, cold sweat breaking out on his face and neck. His breathing was heavy and loud and he was afraid the neighbours would hear him. For the first few times the dream came to him, he would ram on his glasses and look down his body, making sure everything was there, not just a dark hole. But later on, he didn't bother, knowing it didn't matter. It didn't matter if he was just a big, black mound of flesh. The only thing that mattered was that he didn't get to Sirius in time, didn't save him.  
  
It wasn't unusual for Harry to get nightmares. He'd gotten them his whole life. Last year he had had recurring nightmares about what happened after the Triwizard Tournament: Cedric's death and Voldemort's rebirth. He had also seen nightmares of him going down a series of halls, opening door after door. Every time he remembered that, he cursed himself. Why hadn't he been strong enough to resist Voldemort prying into his mind. It was because of him that Sirius died, no matter what anyone said.  
  
Tonight Harry had woken up with a sick feeling in his stomach. He would be going back to Hogwarts in a month. How would he walk the halls without having the sick feeling that this is where Sirius had once walked with his father, and would never walk those halls again because of him. How would he sit in the Common Room, glancing in the fireplace, knowing Sirius's head would not be popping up in the fire ever again, as it had just only months ago. No, he wouldn't be able to forget.  
  
Slowly, careful not to wake Aunt Petunia from her beauty sleep (as if it had done any wonders for her, well, ever), he walked over to his trunk. Kneeling down, he opened the lid, and took out his parent's wedding album. As he looked over the pages, his father and mother waved and smiled to him. Sirius was in some of the pictures, his long black hair cut below his ears back them, a smile splayed on his face. He hardly ever waved. He just struck a pose, the corners of his face turned up in a sly smile. Harry chuckled in spite of himself. Sirius had always been ready for attention, always acting like a daredevil, a partner in crime with James Potter. The chuckle soon turned into sobs, and Harry tried uselessly to fight back tears.  
  
A rustle came through the open windows, and Harry turned to see Hedwig fly into the room. Thank goodness his aunt and uncle were to slow to remember that what Harry had told them about Hedwig coming home during the day had to be a lie, since owls slept in the day. He strode over to her cage, where she perched, waiting to be relieved of her parcel. As he untied the string around her leg, she nipped affectionately at his finger. Harry sighed. She was the only friend he had here at Privet Drive, away from his real home, Hogwarts. Not wanting to wallow in self-pity, Harry quickly tore at the plain brown paper covering the parcel. As he opened the package, a paper sailed down on the ground. Bending, he picked it up. It was from his friend, Ron Weasly. Hastily scrawled on the paper, was written:  
  
"Dear Harry, Hi, mate. I hope you received my parcel with the cake for your birthday, as well as my present. Guess what, Dad is getting a raise at the ministry. Everyone in the family is happy, except for Percy. He seems to have something stuck up his- woops; Mum was about to read over my shoulder just now. Even though she doesn't mention him anymore, we all know she still misses Percy. I reckon she would have gone to his apartment and tried to make up with him if it wasn't for the fact that he left breaking all ties with us because of his being ashamed of Dad. He's just a stuck-up-snot- filled-empty-headed piece of jerk.  
  
So how's life with the Muggles. I hope they're not giving you any trouble. If so, I can always have Dad come over and threaten them. He's still trying to work out the tell-a-fone, so he wont' be able to talk to them with it. Anyways, Mum's dying here, waiting for you to come. So are Fred and George, though I reckon its 'cause they need more dummies for their tests. Didya know, they invented this toffee that after every thirty seconds shoots out fireworks from the person's mouth. Its wicked, but Mum won't let me try it. Something about safety.  
  
So Harry, when are you comin' down to The Burrow? If you come soon, we'll have a whole month. Herms is also coming soon. Fred and George are still here, and so is Bill. Charlie says he'll come too, soon. Waiting for your letter. Write soon. Send the message with Hedwig. I can't send any messages with Pig, he's too damn slow and useless. He flies halfway across the room and flops down on the bed.  
  
P.S. The parcel is a Honeydukes cake. Know you don't get enough to eat, especially with the whale in your house on a diet. Come soon.  
  
Your impatient friend,  
  
Ron  
  
Harry smiled. A letter from either of his friends, Hagrid, Lupin or Tonks always brought a smile to his face. It told him that they didn't blame him or hate him for Sirius's death. Besides, they were his only connection to his world, a world he ached to belong to again.  
  
Harry grinned through his pain. Yes he was going to the Burrow, soon. Very soon. But when? And how? Harry tried to work his plan out as he climbed into bed. Soon, he as sleeping, carelessly, without a single dream or nightmare to disturb him. 


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Harry smirked behind his post underneath the stairs. Mrs. Brooke had come over with her daughter, Janice, to have tea with Aunt Petunia. Mrs Brooke was a thin, wiry woman with a Lucy hairdo wig. She always seemed to be dressed as if the Queen was about to drop in any moment, with her pearls and diamonds flashing at her neck and ears. If the mother was any bit annoying, it was nothing compared to the loathsomeness of her daughter. Built like her mother, long and thin, she had blond hair (real, unlike her mother) and green eyes. She looked as if she would fit into normal human society, but Harry knew better. Having lived at Privet Drive for eleven years, before Hogwarts, he knew the people in the neighbourhood for what they really were, not what they and everyone else pretended they were.  
  
Janice Brooke was the same age as Dudley. If Dudley liked beating up kids, then Janice loved ordering him to do it. They were the perfect couple the whole neighbourhood was talking about. Frankly, Harry thought the pair looked more like a rhinoceros and an ostrich, respectively. However, at least Janice kept Dudley away from the house a lot, to Aunt Petunia's dismay, and gave Harry relief.  
  
"Well, as I was saying, Petunia dear, it is completely horrid of that Sanders girl and that boy, what's his name, Scott, to be going on in the public so horridly, and their parents not doing a single thing about it. What has our society gotten to these days. It wouldn't be so bad if the Sanders and the Randalls supported their children in society and acted as if they had everything under control, from the prom to the wedding of those kids. My, am I glad my Janice has got your Dudley. He is such a fine boy, and I truthfully, I am extremely glad he comes from such a normal family." Harry smirked under the staircase as Mrs. Brooke went on talking, thinking "If she only knew."  
  
"It would be splendid if we were to throw a party in honour of the kids, showing that we are so happy by their relationship."  
  
Aunt Petunia bobbed her head up and down, saying "I completely agree, Nina. Why, Vernon was just saying the other day about how we must do something for the children. This would be splendid," and leaning closer to Mrs. Brooke, so all Harry could hear was a harsh whisper, said, "and it would wipe the smirk of Lisa's face. You know how she's been gloating over the party she threw two months ago." Both women sipped their tea and giggled, as if they were in cahoots in robbing a bank.  
  
"Well, then its settled. The two of you are throwing the party," exclaimed Mrs. Brooke as Uncle Vernon looked up from his newspaper. "And soon, too. My Janice is going to go to Paris in a few days."  
  
Harry noticed Uncle Vernon start sweating. Harry knew exactly what was going through Uncle Vernon's head. If the Dursley's threw the party while he was around, it would be difficult to hide Harry. However, Uncle Vernon had no other option, not if he wanted to keep a good reputation around Privet Drive. "Er, of course, Nina. We'll throw the party this Saturday." Harry found his opportunity. Getting up suddenly from underneath the stairs, he exclaimed "Uncle Vernon, I'll come to the party too. I'll help out, as usual," Harry grinned maliciously.  
"Now, you listen to me boy. I'll not have you ruin Dudley's big day. This means a lot to him." Harry turned away from Uncle Vernon's bellowing face to look at Dudley. It definitely was a big day, and Dudley looked big too. Aunt Petunia had tried to fit Dudley into a suit she had bought for him two days ago, when he could fit in it perfectly. Now, the suit, which would be too large even for a fully-grown man, was tight across Dudley's stomach.  
  
"Yes, Uncle Vernon. I promise I won't do anything." Harry sighed. He was telling the truth. He couldn't do anything at the party because of the strictness of underage magic.  
  
Outside, the whole neighbourhood had congregated outside on the Dursley's front lawn. Harry sauntered outside, the glare of the sun hitting him across the face. From the corner of his eye, he could see Janice walking over to Dudley and putting her arm under his, a mass of flesh. Harry shuddered, the whole idea of Janice and Dudley disgusting him. Uncle Vernon was proudly boasting about his new car, the one he had gotten with his promotion. "Well, you know, Charlie, my boy, I'm so important to the company. I've brought in twenty percent of our clients. Just two weeks ago I got an offer from our rivalling company. They wanted to give me a higher post. Now, I'm too valuable for my company to lose, so when they heard about the offer, they instantly gave me a raise." Harry knew this to be not true. Uncle Vernon had practically asked everyone in the company to recommend him to the seniors. Finally, he got the promotion when he helped a son-in-law of one of the seniors with some trouble downtown.  
  
Someone laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and he yelped, causing everyone to look at him. Turning red, he turned around. It was Mrs. Figg, the Dursleys' neighbour, and a Squib. Harry was glad to see her here. As old as she was, and quite unique, she was nice and she was the only connection he had with the wizarding world.  
  
"Mrs. Figg, boy, am I glad to see you here." He walked with her over to a bench, where they sat down talking about the latest news going on in their world. It seemed only minutes later that Uncle Vernon started barbequing, and Harry was surprised to see an hour and a half had passed by. He looked around at the mass of people; some were sitting on lawn chairs gossiping about the latest celebrity, while others were in a heated rant against the latest mayor (although secretly they had all voted for him because of his promise to lift the ban from a certain type of movies). Harry left Mrs. Figg, who was talking with her old neighbour, Mr. Grier, about the history of lawn gnomes, to get a bit to eat, since his stomach was rumbling.  
  
He reached the table and was about to take a pastry, when a bony hand smacked his. It was Aunt Petunia. "I told you this morning, you were not to touch a single bit of this food. Your food is in the kitchen. This food is for our guests." And with her scrawny arm, pushed him towards the back door to the kitchen.  
  
Uncle Vernon could be heard giving his speech. "Well, thank you all for coming to this barbeque. As you all know, this was thrown by my lovely wife," Aunt Petunia tried to act bashful, "and me, in honour of my son, Dudley, and his pretty girl, Janice." Everyone clapped and murmured how "absolutely enchanting" Janice looked in her dress, and well, how "er...strong" Dudley looked. Harry looked out the window at Janice pointing to a boy in round in glasses and whispering to Dudley. Seconds later, Dudley had dragged the poor boy behind a tree and started beating him up. Harry assumed Janice hadn't liked the color of the boy's shirt.  
  
The noon sun was glaring its brightest, and Harry wished to be outside, under a tree, with the cool breeze. Instead he was sitting in the stuffy kitchen, eating the leftover spaghetti. He twirled around the morsel of limp, soggy spaghetti with his fork, wishing he was outside, enjoying the juicy burger. He forced the bite down, and suddenly, he heard a crash- followed by a series of bangs! and screeches. He jumped out of his chair and jolted outside. Everyone had stopped talking and were looking shocked at something in the Dursley's driveway. Harry pushed past people to take a better look. Behind the Dursley's old car, now crushed from the rear, stood another vehicle, an old Honda. Sitting inside were three orange-haired teenagers, with freckles decking their faces. "Hiya, Harry! Nice party," exclaimed one of them. Looking back at Harry, with mischievous grins from ear to ear, sat Bill, Fred and George Weasley.  
  
Trying to avoid Uncle Vernon's eyes, Harry made his way over to the Weasleys. "What are you three doing here?" he whispered, leaning towards George. All three of them had gotten out of the car, and were making their way to the table piled with food with Harry, mouth open, following them.  
  
"We came to get you out of here," George whispered back from the corner of his mouth as he looked over a small centerpiece at the table, wondering what angle it would be best to hit it. Loudly, he said, "Fine house, you've got over here. We folks, from St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boy, usually have never seen such houses." Harry recalled three years ago when Uncle Vernon had started a story about him attending a boy's juvenile hostel.  
  
"Yeah, Harry, you never mentioned this is where you came from. All we knew about you was that you got busted for trying to rob a bakery." Fred said, winking at Harry just slightly so it barely perceptible. Harry tried hard to smother a laugh as he looked around at the bewildered looks on the guests' faces and Uncle Vernon's purple, Aunt Petunia's white and Dudley's red faces. It was just like the twins to make up a ridiculous story to humiliate the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon thundered over. Leaning close to Bill, whom he sensed was the oldest, he spoke.  
  
"WHAT THE DEVIL ARE YOU DOING HERE? HOW DARE YOU SHOW UP ON MY LAWN AND WRECK MY CAR?" He spluttered, but keeping his voice to a bare minimum. Coming up, and putting his arm on his brother's shoulder, Fred started poking Uncle Vernon in the ribs and said "Well, Mr. Dursley, how dare you feed Harry rotten apples and dry sandwiches? How dare you keep him locked in the house? And how DARE YOU give birth to such a monstrosity?" he said, jerking his head towards Dudley, who was now trembling with fear and clutching Janice's blouse. Getting the hint, George started talking too.  
  
"Mr. Dursley, you know very well that my father and Mr. Mad-Eye Moody," Uncle Vernon cleared his ears-he surely couldn't have heard "Mad-Eye Moody"- , "told you at the beginning of the summer. If Harry wasn't treated well, they would send someone along. And so, here we are. We're here to take Harry with us to our house, the Burrow. And now, if you don't mind, we're here to enjoy a party," and unflustered, George walked away from Uncle Vernon and went to take a slice of pie. Bill, Fred and Harry followed. Uncle Vernon just stood standing there. Within a few moments, he addressed the crowd.  
  
"Well, it seems", he said in an unmistakably squeaky voice, "it seems like my nephew's friends have decided to stay for the party."  
  
"Yeah, it seems we have," Fred said, his mouth full of a chicken pastry, "so, please go about as usual. Don't mind us," and he turned around to take the can of soda Harry was offering him. Harry tried not to laugh as he saw the guests try to go about as usual, avoiding making eye contact with the Weasleys and Harry. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia just stood there.  
  
"Thank god you came. I was getting stifled in that house. But I haven't packed at all," as Harry talked, a little girl came up. It was Susie Carmichael from across the street. Harry was quite fond of the five-year old. She was the only one in the neighbourhood who didn't treat him like slime. She pulled on Fred's shirt and said, "My mommy says you are bad people. Why are you bad?" Fred looked in her shiny black eyes, and with all the seriousness he could muster, said "We're bad people because we steal cars and mug people." A shriek was heard as Susie's mom ran up, clutched her daughter, and ran away, terrified.  
  
"Wow, nice kid. How did she manage being born in this neighbourhood?" Bill commented. "Oh, and Harry, as for your stuff, it's packed and should be coming down the stairs about now." Sure enough, as Harry strained, he could hear a slight thump coming from inside the house.  
  
"Psst, George. Now!" whispered Fred. A second later, a bench Dudley's friends were sitting on collapsed. Harry didn't see it, but he knew George's wand was right behind his back. As they turned around to leave, Janice ambled over. Harry couldn't help notice the way she was looking at Bill, taking in his dragon fang earring, his long hair, and dragonhide jacket. Harry nudged Fred, who in turn nudged George. They all looked in amusement as Janice started talking to Bill.  
  
"Hmm, I like your earring. It's really cool. Dudley isn't willing to get any piercings. He's too scared. But I can see you're not at all afraid," she slowly laid an arm on Bill's. Harry bit his lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing. He could see Dudley turning red. "So, are you busy this summer?" She looked earnestly at Bill.  
  
"Er, you see actually, there's this rule my mom has: never bring in stray animals from the streets." At this George burst out laughing at Janice's humiliation, and accidentally knocked the centerpiece down from the table. Uncle Vernon came stomping up and clutched at George's throat. Instantaneously, Fred and Bill grabbed at their wands, and careful not to make the wand visible, Bill muttered something under his breath and Uncle Vernon's hands, and the rest of his body flew off from George and landed smack! in the middle of lawn table. Everyone drew away from the food table where the Weasleys were standing.  
  
"We should really get out of here," Harry muttered to Bill from the corner of his mouth. He saw Bill nod. Bill grabbed at George's hand and began dragging him, and Harry dragged Fred. Uncle Vernon, who saw that the Weasleys were leaving, tried to save face and started shaking his arm and yelling.  
  
"Yeah, leave. I can see you're scared. Go away from here and don't come back. This is where good, honourable people live. Not scumbags like you." Harry felt Bill stiffen, but he kept on walking. Fred turned and was about to say something when Bill clamped his hand over Fred's mouth. The Weasleys followed the boys and the guests followed them. Uncle Vernon was still yelling when Fred freed himself and from Harry and walked up to Uncle Vernon, who had stopped talking and was turning white.  
  
"Yeah, we're leaving. Thanks for being so hospitable," he said, smiling sweetly. As he turned to leave, his hand slightly touched Dudley's soda can. While Fred had been talking to the crowd, Bill, George and Harry had put his trunk and Hedwig's cage in the car. Uncle Vernon's car. His new car. As Fred walked away, Dudley started convulsing and twitching. He started twisting his head and soon he was on all fours. Mrs. Dursley shrieked as Dudley started squealing like a pig. Uncle Vernon's face held a weird expression, somewhere in the middle of pain and anger. As he thundered towards the boys, all of them got into his new car except Fred. Before getting inside himself, he said, "Oh and since you're such a gracious host, we know you won't mind us borrowing this car. You can keep ours if you like." And he got inside as Bill started the ignition. They backed out of the driveway and onto the street, howling with laughter as Uncle Vernon ran after them, with Aunt Petunia trying to pull Dudley off from Janice's skirt. As they drove off, their laughter could be heard by all the people living there.  
  
After they had driven for a mile and their laughter subsided, Harry, amidst tears, managed to ask Fred what he had done to George. "Oh, its this new powder we've invented. Mix it in any drink, and the drinker starts behaving like an animal for an hour. The animal depends on the drinker. If the person is like a dog, they start behaving like one. Or, if they are a pig, lo and behold, they start acting like a pig. Looks like our Dudley here is very much fond of mud and grub." And snorting with laughter, he imitated Dudley rolling on the Dursley's lawn. Everyone laughed as they remembered the incident on their way to the Burrow. 


End file.
